die narcissus die

i'll kick myself...

i swore never to love you again!
but this is the last..
and i can't find an excuse not even something like:
"for old times sake"
! don't remember anything worth calling old times!

and as for the bitterness,

as it shall rise at the ends of my tongue:
it shall end at the wallowin depths of my stomach.
the pain has so distanced the pleasure of this exercise,
i know i'll be less of a man if i go on.
for happiness is a search better off withoutwhat thou brings.


in self,

shall you find the happiness of vanity bought,
by selling the last left of Narcissus left by the river.
a flower that once leaves it's mirror of self on the river is better dried for the scent that lingers...
for it's beauty is dead once reflection is lost.
and lost has the Narcissus it's mirror and lost has it the home by the heart.

pray the magicians of paris make perfume lik the olden days...

pray the memory lingers in scent.